


chaos prototype

by firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin/pseuds/firewasntmadetobeheldinhumanskin
Summary: Maybe it is the way he cares about people. Maybe it is how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, or how his plump lips twist when he’s doing it, ever so softly, so delicately. (...) Hyunwoo doesn’t know. At some point, he finds in himself that he doesn’t even care.“Tell me we’re dead and I’ll love you even more.” (Richard Siken, Crush)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [blancsetnoirsr1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/blancsetnoirsr1) collection. 



> oh, well  
> that escalated quickly
> 
> to everyone who didn't watch the movie, a few things:  
> > the world's ending.  
> > there are big awkward creatures (named 'kaiju') coming from the ocean.  
> > humanity unites and creates machines (a lot like megazords) named 'Jaeger' to fight them.  
> > all Jaeger have strange names.  
> > pilots (it only works in pairs - or trios, depending on who you're talking about) need a ~soulmate level thing~ to use one.
> 
> for the angst, I recommend you to hear Heroes - Peter Gabriel while you read :D

The first thing Hyunwoo sees when he wakes up is a white ceiling.

Everything's quiet. Not a living soul seems to be inside the room. He takes a moment to look around, his mind's a blur. Every thought that starts forming seems to drown in deafening silence, not giving him time to grasp anything more than brief ideas, slices of things he should worry about but right now can't bring himself to understand.

It must be the meds. His body feels heavy, though numb, and he watches as the heart monitor goes up and down and up and down with straight, stable lines. It should make a sound, he knows. He should be hearing that sound ― he doesn't. From his place in the bed, Hyunwoo can see a window.

The sky's still blue. The ceiling's still white.

(The world's still ending.)

 

 

He turns around and closes his eyes.

The worst part, Hyunwoo finds out, is not the pain. The worst part is not the meds, nor the doctors, nor the fact that the kaiju's still alive. The worst part isn't even the looks he receives when he's carried around like a broken doll being fixed ― some full of pity, some full of sorrow (some full of judgement, asking him why he's still here, why he let it happen, why he did _nothing to stop it)._

The worst part, Hyunwoo finds out, is the loneliness.

The worst part is the fact that, though he can already hear things again ― even when, sometimes, the sounds are _too much,_ the noises coming in and out of his ears and shaking his bones and making his nerves _burn_ ―, the silence inside his head is never gone. It keeps coming back again and again and again, drowning his thoughts and his focus and his words.

The worst part is the silence when he sleeps, when he wakes up, when something happens and he looks at his side, ready to hear a heart-felt or funny comment about it, and finds nothing.

He's alone. He's alone, he's in pain, and that's not something that meds can change. That's not something a smile or a hug or a surgery can fix.

_The worst part is that he knows it's not going to stop._

Hyunwoo stops taking the meds as soon as the splints are taken off ― the constant pain almost doesn't bother him anymore.

It's not going to end, and he knows that.

Might as well learn to live with it.

 

 

Six months after The Incident ― how people in Shatterdome started calling it ―, Hyunwoo's put out of the program. Not because he doesn't fit in, his superiors say, though he can see the fear in their eyes, the dread that he might not be able to do the drift anymore. They insist in telling him it's just temporary, it's just a measure to make sure that he'll recover fully, that he'll be useful in other ways while not being able to fight in a Jaeger again.

It's not how they put it, _of course,_ but Hyunwoo doesn't soft words to understand that, right now, he means close to nothing to the company. He can't fight to stop the end of the world. He can't fight to make sure that there'll be another tomorrow, that there'll be something to hold on to while everything else seems to be falling to pieces.

What he can do, now, is help the others to find compatible pilots to the remaining machines ― to train them, to _teach_ them. It's not exactly a good thing, but it's still better than trying to find _him_ a new co-pilot.

Hyunwoo doesn't plan on stepping into a Jaeger _ever again._

Not after the last time.

(Sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he still feels the burn of phosphorescent kaiju acid onto his skin ― sometimes, it's more than that, and he wakes up _screaming.)_

 

 

"Why do you fight?"

Hyunwoo always, _always_ makes that question before starting with a new class ― and people _never_ fail to disappoint him.

"For revenge."

"For glory."

"To make my parents proud."

Hyunwoo sighs and presses the bridge of his nose. His head's pounding more than normal today, and he finds in himself that he doesn't have the patience to deal with that. He looks up from his scarred hands to the fifteen boys and girls in front of him, and is ready to scold the hell out of them, when a quiet murmur comes from the back and calls his attention.

"To save the world."

It's a boy who says it. Relatively tall, pitch black hair, roundy chestnut eyes that carry something familiar that tugs at the bottom of Hyunwoo's heart and makes his throat close. The younger seems caught off guard, surprise showing on his face when Hyunwoo points a finger towards him. The whole class goes quiet to watch them.

"You." the older furrows his eyebrows together. "What's your name?"

The boy straightens his shoulders, swallowing dry ― his eyes are like an open book, and tell how much he _doesn't_ like to be stared at by a bunch of people. Hyunwoo feels a bit bad at making him nervous, but that's not something he can control, and so he waits.

"Shin Hoseok, sir. My ― my name's Shin Hoseok." although he's clearly uncomfortable with all the attention, the boy's voice doesn't fail him.

Hyunwoo nods, satisfied.

"Okay, then, Hoseok. Can you repeat your answer?"

Hoseok's fingers are trembling. He closes his hands into fists and licks his lips before saying it again, out loud.

"To save the world."

"Explain it." Hyunwoo crosses his arms. Hoseok gives him a confused look. "You fight to save the world. Fine. Explain it."

Hoseok seems even more confused at that. He frowns slightly before tilting his head to the side.

"We need to protect the people we love, right? You save the world, you save them. And, uh, that's how it works, isn't it?"

Hyunwoo wants to tell him that it's not. He wants to tell him before life comes and does it, he wants to tell him to stop hoping because it won't take him anywhere ― hope won't do it, anger won't do it, it's meaningless and it'll hurt like hell in the end. But he can't. He can't crush the boy's dreams like that, he can't take that away from him. He can't do that to any of them ― hope is everything they have now, even if they don't know it yet.

"Yeah." he says, instead, resisting the urge to sigh. "Yeah, that's how it works."

Trying to save the world didn't do much for his family ― and neither it did to his best friend.

_He deserved better. They deserved better._

(But that's not how it works.)

 

 

Hoseok’s the first in Hyunwoo’s class to find a co-pilot.

The boy’s name is Hyungwon ― tall, deep-voiced, who listens to Hoseok’s senseless rambling without batting an eyelash and seems able to understand him like no one else in the world. Part of Hyunwoo is proud of their achievement, proud of what they’ve done this far and how they get along without any effort; the other part mourns it as if he’s just lost someone.

It gets lonely, sometimes.

(It gets lonely when he finds himself searching for something that won’t ever, _ever_ be there again ― and specially at night, when he stares at the white ceiling and asks himself if everything’s ever been so _quiet)_

 

 

Lee Minhyuk is a surprise addition to the team on Shatterdome.

Lee Minhyuk is a surprise addition to Hyunwoo’s life.

There’s something strange with the boy whose silver hair basically _glows_ whenever the smallest ray of light hits him, something that draws people towards him, that makes people want to befriend him. Hyunwoo watches as, one by one, all his students and all the people he knows try and succeed at talking and getting close to him, surrounding him just like moths to a flame.

Hyunwoo thinks that it has something to do with the fact that Minhyuk reminds them of sunny days and family and people they used to love. He’s young and innocent, and he keeps the smile on his lips even though the world’s ending, even though most of them already lost hope, even though some of them don’t believe in salvation anymore.

Minhyuk keeps their hopes alive and makes them dream of better days.

(Hyunwoo avoids him like the plague ― until he can’t do it anymore)

 

 

“Minhyukie thinks you hate him.”

It’s Hoseok who brings it up, one day, when he and Hyungwon show up in the middle of his class and decide to stay and help him to gather things up after it’s finished. Hyunwoo looks up from behind the shelves, his face blank, eyes emotionless. Hyungwon stops what he’s doing to give his co-pilot a hard look, watching them in silence.

“What?” Hyunwoo asks, because Hoseok doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything more if he doesn’t.

“You know what I’m talking about.” the younger cringes and, vaguely, Hyunwoo tries to remember when he gave him all that liberty. “You’re not doing a good job hiding that he just needs to show up for you to run as far as possible and don’t come back until he’s gone.”

If it wasn’t a rude answer, Hyunwoo would tell him that he’s not trying to hide it at all. But he guesses Hoseok wouldn’t appreciate it very much, so he keeps his mouth shut. The younger, noticing his silence, sighs.

“Look.” he says. “I’m not saying that you should go and, I don’t know, marry him. Just give the guy a chance. He’s nice, I promise.”

Hyunwoo looks down at his hands, scarred for life for the kaiju acid that got stuck inside the Jaeger. He knows a lot about giving things (and people) a chance ― he knows more than he’d like, and that’s not something he’s proud of.

Hoseok still watches him for a while, the hope inside his eyes so sincere, so _childish_ that it makes Hyunwoo’s heart ache with the need to not disappoint him. But he can’t. Hope is a dangerous thing ― Hyunwoo’s not ashamed of saying that he _fears_ it. He didn’t before, and he paid the price. He’s not about to do that again.

“You know what? Fine.” Hoseok sounds upset, but Hyunwoo doesn’t lift his head up to be sure. “I’m not going to bring it up again. Do whatever you want, I’m calling quit.”

Hyunwoo knows he hurt him, he knows he made the younger disappointed and sad and angry, and he’s not proud of that. He tries to apologize, he tries to find something to say, something to express why he’s doing what he’s doing, but the words fail him and Hoseok’s gone before he can try again. Hyungwon gives him a look that Hyunwoo can’t quite decipher ― something between an apologie and compassion ― before following his co-pilot, calling out for him in a worried tone.

Hyunwoo’s left with nothing but silence and a bunch of drowned thoughts.

(Part of him wants to scream ― the other part wants to lie down and never, _ever_ wake up again.)

 

 

Hollow Pume almost goes down barely a week after the discussion.

Hyungwon has a broken arm and small cuts all over his body ― Hoseok got the shorter stick: his whole face is covered in blood, he has burns of second and third degree all around his arms and back. Hyunwoo sees them as soon as they’re brought back to Shatterdome, and the image gets printed onto his eyelids like a living nightmare.

Hoseok’s screaming his lungs out ― for pain or despair, Hyunwoo won’t ever know ― and Hyungwon cries for his co-pilot, and it only gets worse when they need to be separated. The paramedics need to sedate Hoseok with their strongest meds in order to carry him to the surgery table without taking the risk of the boy hurting himself; Hyungwon enters in a state of complete panic and takes two or three of them down before they can do the same to him, and they need to pin him down and hold him until the sedatives work.

Hyunwoo’s heart breaks for them. Despair chokes him up from the pitch of his stomach to the top of his lungs and stomach, and, as time passes in the waiting room, he feels more and more close to a complete breakdown.

(Hoseok’s screams ring inside his head worse than any silence ever did before.)

 

 

“Hyung?... Hyunwoo hyung?”

A calm, sweet voice is what takes Hyunwoo out of his panic-induced state. He looks up from his knees, his vision blurred ― he didn’t even notice he was crying until now ―, and there it is Minhyuk, a small smile on his lips even though his eyes are red and puffy, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He’s crouching down next to Hyunwoo, his hands softly placed on either sides of the older’s knees, his thumbs gently rubbing the cloth under his hands, grounding Hyunwoo, keeping him in the real world instead of inside his own mind.

“They – they’ve made it.” Minhyuk’s smile grows, his mouth trembling, his shoulders shaking. “Hoseok hyung and Hyungwon – they’ll be okay.”

Hyunwoo feels just like someone took the world out of his shoulders. Warmth spreads on his chest and body, the relief so strong that his eyes are watering once again. He doesn’t think ― he _can’t_ think ― before going straight forward, pushing Minhyuk onto his arms and hiding his face against the crook of the younger’s neck, not caring in the slightest about how pathetic he probably looks right now.

If Minhyuk finds it strange, he not only doesn’t tell, but also doesn’t reject the gesture. He kneels between Hyunwoo’s legs, immediately wrapping his arms around the other’s shoulders, pressing his face against the older’s hair and inhaling deeply. They’re a complete mess, crying on each other like the world’s about to end ― and Hyunwoo couldn’t care less. He holds onto the embrace like his life depends on it, because it’s been so long since the last time he found comfort into something that he almost _forgot_ how it feels like.

Hyunwoo doesn’t let go off the younger, until all that remains inside his ribcage is a dull burning ache, his nerves numb, his mouth dry and his face still wet with tears.

Minhyuk keeps talking, mumbling no-sense between sweet words and promises that everything will be okay, that they’ll be okay, that Hyunwoo doesn’t need to worry now, that they’ll save the world somehow.

His voice is soft, controlled, and it soothes all of Hyunwoo’s demons.

(Even then, he barely sleeps that night ― he barely sleeps until he gets the pass to see his boys.)

 

 

Hoseok’s awful. He’s pale as a sheet, his lips completely dried of color, and there’s an immense bandage taking all the way from his left cheekbone down to his chin. Hyunwoo can’t see his body properly because of the fluffy blanket all over the boy, and he’s grateful for it ― just seeing his neck and arms wrapped up in gaze already makes his heart burn in agony.

Hyungwon should look better ― considering he’s only wearing a cast on his left arm and has a small bruise visible on his lower lip ―, but the misery in his eyes when he looks up to find Hyunwoo watching them makes the older want to protect him from the world and _never again_ let any of them _near_ a Jaeger.

“I got distracted.” Hyungwon says, his voice rough, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t know why, I just – my family was in a trip in San Francisco when it started and I – I remember when the kaiju broke the walls and I just –” he chokes up on a sob, covering his mouth with a hand before looking down in shame. “When I got back he was – he was already bleeding out and I couldn’t – I didn’t do anything, I just kept staring and – he was so scared, Hyunwoo. He was so, _so_ scared. _He thought we were going to die._ Hell, _I_ thought we were going to die. And then we were in the water and my arm got stuck and he – Hoseok was trying to help me when the kaiju –”

Hyunwoo doesn’t need to hear the rest of the story to know what happened after. The kaiju used it’s acid, Hoseok got in the way. They were drowning when Hyungwon managed to escape and drag them back up. At this point, another Jaeger has been sent, and they managed to distract the kaiju for enough time for the emergency unit to get the other two and bring them back to Shatterdome.

He approaches the crying mess of a boy and gently wraps his arms around him and rubs his back comfortingly. Hyungwon immediately slumps against his body, sobbing non-stop, and the other wishes he could do something to help him to feel better.

 _It’s not your fault_ won’t make him feel better, it doesn’t matter how Hyunwoo wishes it did. He _doesn’t believe_ it was Hyungwon’s fault, but the boy seems to think so, and there’s nothing that he can do to change that fact.

 _Words won’t make it better._ Hyunwoo knows that much.

“You’re alive.” he says, anyway, because that’s the best his mind can come up with. “You’re alive, and he’s alive, and you’ll be just fine.”

It’s not a lie. _As long as they have each other, everything will work out in the end._ When Hyunwoo tells him that, Hyungwon looks at him with huge watery eyes full of hope, full of fear and despair.

“But what if he hates me? What if – what if he doesn’t want to see me ever again? What if he gets mad at me?”

“He won’t.” Hyunwoo says, as a matter of fact. “He won’t get mad, he won’t avoid you and he _definitely_ won’t hate you. I promise.”

Hyungwon sniffles before sheepishly looking at Hoseok, who’s still motionless on the bed. Only then Hyunwoo notices that the boy’s fingers are interwined with his ex-student’s, holding delicately the hand that it’s not completely wrapped up in gaze, the tip of his fingers showing, blue and purple. Hyunwoo’s heart’s still hurting, and he soon notices that the younger’s not the only one that it’s about to cry.

He breathes in, breathes out, deeply. Hyungwon relaxes on his arms.

“Don’t you think he’ll be mad about the cut on his face, though?” the younger speaks up again, quietly, loud enough just to be heard. “The doctor said… He said it can and probably _will_ leave a scar.”

 _The silence bothers him._ Hyunwoo knows how it is. _He knows._ He won’t let any of them go through it alone. _He won’t._

“Are we talking about the same Hoseok?” Hyunwoo plays, but lifts up a hand to softly caress the boy’s hair. “He’ll probably say it makes him look like a badass.”

Hyungwon laughs weakly. The laugh is interrupted by a sob. He stops. Hyunwoo holds him closer.

And so they stay.

(When Minhyuk shows up a few minutes later with wet eyes but a bright smile on his lips and a bunch of wild dandelions and cosmos on his hands, Hyunwoo’s left with  the promise that everything’s going to be okay ― not because they _want_ it to be okay, but because they _need_ it to be okay.)

 

 

“How did you know?”

Minhyuk talks to him when they leave ― because Hyungwon needs to rest and Hoseok will be sedated for a while for his body to be able to recover. Hyunwoo’s still a bit shaken up by the encounter, and doesn’t understand the question at first.

“Excuse me?”

Minhyuk gives him a small, gentle smile.

“I heard what you told Hyungwonie before I came in.” he doesn’t seem embarassed about that, and so the older decides he doesn’t have any reason to. “You said just what he needed to hear. How did you know?”

Hyunwoo stops walking. Minhyuk stops, too ― his eyes are confused, curious. _Innocent._ He’s not being judgemental or sarcastic. _Minhyuk really doesn’t know._ Hyunwoo swallows dry.

It’s been over a year. _A year._ He should be getting better at dealing with it instead of getting better at pretending it didn’t happen.

“I –” he looks away, because Minhyuk’s childish eyes will be the death of him, and restarts walking. The other follows him without saying a word. “I lived the same thing, once.”

Minhyuk gasps in surprise, caught off guard by the statement.

“Really?!” his eyes widen. “And where’s your co-pilot?”

The question hits Hyunwoo like a punch in his guts. The oxygen is suddenly gone from his lungs. He stops again. Minhyuk watches him curiously.

_Where’s his co-pilot?_

_Where’s his co-pilot?_

_Where?!_

“Dead.” Hyunwoo answers, and leaves.

Minhyuk doesn’t follow him this time.

 

 

For a week straight, Hyunwoo gets back to avoiding Minhyuk like the plague. He doesn’t do anything properly ― he doesn’t eat and he doesn’t sleep and he wastes all his time inside his class, teaching the younger ones or working alone to exhaustion.

It’s not that Hyunwoo’s angry at the boy. _It’s not._ He’s angry at himself, because, at this point, there’s nothing else he could do about it. He remembers the fear of dying. He remembers the pain. He remembers the utter _despair_ ― mixed up with panic ― that shot up from his spine to his brain and then down to all his nerves. He remembers what it felt like to be dying ― to lose consciousness believing that death would take him without a second thought and then wake up, eight days later, alone in a room with a white ceiling, drowning in silence and denial.

Hyunwoo remembers what it feels like to lose an important part of him and how it is to be forced to live with it, how it is to not be able to bring it back, to _save it,_ to _give his life_ for it.

And he hates that feeling.

He hates not being able to get rid of it.

(Some nights, Hyunwoo wakes up to Hoseok’s screams ringing on his ears.)

 

 

“How do you live with it?”

Hoseok’s still deathly pale, dark bags under his eyes, lips tainted with the lightest pink, but at least he’s _awake._ He’s been for some hours, right now, and it was a sacrifice to convince Hyungwon to leave his side to go to physiotherapy; Hoseok himself needed to pressure him into going, promising he won’t go anywhere, promising him he’ll just stay in bed and talk with Hyunwoo, until Hyungwon eventually agreed to it.

Now they’re alone, and Hoseok’s looking at him with pained, desperate eyes. Hyunwoo knows what he means ― he just doesn’t know how to answer. He shrugs, but that doesn’t seem an answer good enough for Hoseok, who blinks back the tears and looks once at the door before turning to the older again.

“How do you – it’s _terrifying,_ Hyunwoo.” he swallows audibly. “When the connection – when it got interrupted, I thought – I was so sure that he was _dead_ that I didn’t even –”

“You’re okay now.” Hyunwoo interrupts in a soft, quiet voice, and puts a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, taking the care of choosing the one that looks less bruised. He only does it because the heart monitor gives away the panic that makes Hoseok’s heart speed up more than it should. “You’re both okay.”

Hoseok half laughs and half sobs at that.

“I’m so high on meds that I can barely think straight, and even then I feel it burning inside my _fuking bones._ Hyungwon’s so stressed out that I _coughed_ and he started crying, calling a nurse and panicking like I was about to _die.”_ the boy’s eyes are blurred, his lips trembling. “How’s that being _okay,_ hyung?”

“You’re both _alive.”_

Hyunwoo didn’t mean to sound rude, but that’s exactly what happens. Hoseok’s eyes widen, and, in the next second, tears start rolling down his cheeks, a choked up sound escaping from the back of his throat and making all his body shake.

“Oh god – oh god, _I’m sorry,_ I didn’t – I wasn’t –”

Hyunwoo covers his mouth, and Hoseok immediately shuts up.

“Breathe.” Hyunwoo commands, his tone demanding. “Breathe in, breathe out. C’mon. Follow me.”

Hoseok does it and, slowly, his body starts relaxing, his heartbeat normalizing. They keep doing it until he stops shaking _completely._ When Hyunwoo takes his hand away from the boy’s mouth, the younger’s already calm again, even though the tears won’t stop coming.

“It’s okay.” Hyunwoo says, before Hoseok can apologize again. “It’s not – it’s not your fault. _You’re alive._ That’s all it matters. We can take care of the rest.”

They can. _They will._

When Minhyuk comes, an hour or so after they stop talking about painful things and try to change the mood, Hyunwoo can see in his eyes the change.

 _There’s still hope,_ Minhyuk’s eyes say. _There’s still hope. Don’t let the world scare it away. Don’t scare it away yourself._

Hoseok’s talking before the older can think of something to say about it.

(The next morning, Hyunwoo wakes up to find dandelions on his door. Dandelions stand for not giving up. Minhyuk’s telling him not to give up. Hyunwoo keeps the flowers.)

 

 

Minhyuk, Hyunwoo soon finds out, is a lot propense to get around sharing things and smiles (and gifts, if he’s in the mood for it) with people. It’s a good thing, he thinks, because he himself is not exactly the talkative type, and the last thing Hoseok and Hyungwon need right now is to deal with more silence. He’s glad that Minhyuk’s with them, so, because then it’s a bit easier to keep their minds off the incident and, therefore, it’s easier to make them smile.

It doesn’t mean things don’t get bad, though. Both Hoseok and Hyungwon still deal with nightmares and the consequences of the kaiju attack, and more often than not they’re not in the right state of mind to play around or even talk. Hyunwoo’s not proud of it, but he tends to stick around Hyungwon during these days, because, just as Hoseok tends to scream and trash around wildly (what only makes everything worse, as it opens his stitches and hurts him even more), Hyungwon tends to shut down completely. Hyunwoo only needed to see his ex-student’s back once to know he couldn’t deal with him like that, not yet.

Minhyuk doesn’t seem to mind about it. Hyunwoo doesn’t think it has something to do with the fact that the boy did Medical school ― he was there when Minhyuk tried to help for the first time, he saw him flinch, he saw him take a step back and cover his mouth, nauseated. But the boy, different from Hyunwoo, recovered fast and soon got into action, helping the paramedics and Hyungwon to calm the other down without needing to give him even more meds.

And it’s not that he doesn’t care. _It’s not._

 _Hyunwoo cares._ He cares too much, he just doesn’t know how to express it. And there are lines he can’t cross, things he can’t do ― he’s not ready, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be. Hoseok doesn’t seem upset, though, and neither does Hyungwon ― none of them treats him different for it, none of them tries to bring it up or touch the subject, and for that Hyunwoo’s grateful. Minhyuk’s not so subtle, not because he’s mad at the older, but because he’s nosy and he doesn’t seem able to contain such curiosity.

“Does it bother you?” he asks Hyunwoo one day, his eyes warm, his voice soft. “The marks on his skin… Does it bother you?”

Hyunwoo shakes his head in denial before answering. The tip of his fingers itch for something to hold, for something to cover himself.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Does it make you think of your co-pilot?”

Minhyuk’s eyes are not judgemental. His voice’s not demanding, he won’t try to force him to answer, and, still, Hyunwoo feels like he’s just being hit. He takes in a sharp breath, holds it until his lungs feel like burning. Minhyuk’s eyes are still warm, his features are still soft. He breathes out, and his body relaxes even though his heart seems painfully small, squeezed inside his ribcage.

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo admits, very quietly. “Yeah, it does.”

(The burn marks on his arms feel like being opened all over again.)

 

 

It’s surprisingly _easy_ to love Minhyuk.

Hyunwoo should know better ― he should know that he’d fall. Fall for his warm eyes, fall for his sweet and nosy personality. It’s easy to fall for him as a whole, because Minhyuk’s just like that: made to love.

Maybe it is the way he cares about people. Maybe it is how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, or how his plump lips twist when he’s doing it, ever so softly, so delicately. It was a mix between all of it and Minhyuk’s careless (but not rude, nor offensive) way of treating him, of asking him things, of talking to him and acting around him.

Hyunwoo doesn’t know. At some point, he finds in himself that he doesn’t even care.

Hyunwoo falls hard.

He falls fast.

(As if _that_ wasn’t surprising enough, when he falls there’s someone there to catch him.)

 

 

“Is that okay?”

Minhyuk’s lips are red and swollen. His cheeks are tainted red. His breath is out of rhythm and his fingers are wrapped around Hyunwoo’s hair, holding tightly. The older’s holding him by his waist, their foreheads pressed together, and his heart feels like it might explode.

The blond gently runs a thumb over his cheek, Hyunwoo shudders under his touch. When he gently massages the skin of Minhyuk’s hips, the younger sighs and closes his eyes, pushing him closer.

“It is.” he says, and presses a kiss to the corner of Hyunwoo’s mouth. The older hums and nuzzles against him, feeling him trembling slowly in his arms. “It is.”

“Good.” Hyunwoo mumbles against the crook of his neck, his breath creating goosebumps on Minhyuk’s skin. He breathes in. Breathes out. “Good. I’ll kiss you again.”

Minhyuk smiles. Hyunwoo puts his hands on each side of his face, and presses their mouths like he can’t get enough of it, like he’s dying and Minhyuk’s the cure. He kisses Minhyuk until his lungs cry for oxygen, until his lips are numb and he feels dizzy, and the younger doesn’t stop smiling even when they’re so crushed against each other, pressed together so fiercely, so desperately that Hyunwoo’s almost sure they’re one.

And it’s okay. It’s good.

It almost makes him forget everything else.

(And when Hyunwoo wakes up in the middle of the night with Minhyuk wrapped up all over him, sound asleep with his head on Hyunwoo’s chest, he thinks he may have found a home again.)

 

 

“I want to drift again.”

Hoseok says it as if it’s nothing. Hyunwoo’s so focused on helping him walk back to his bed ― after another exhaustive physiotherapy session ― that he fails to understand it at first. He holds Hoseok’s shoulders as gently as possible, but even then the younger flinches in pain while sitting. Hyunwoo doesn’t think of  anything else until he helps the boy to settle comfortably on the bed, lying fully against the pillows, sighing in relief when his body finally starts relaxing.

Only then Hyunwoo lets himself at ease again.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Hoseok gives him a tired, hopeful smile.

“I want to drift again.”

Hyunwoo stops at that. Looks at the boy. At the dark bags still under his eyes, at the weak pink coloring his cheeks and the pain still present on the way he breathes, on the way he moves and on how dimmed is the light inside his eyes. Hyunwoo feels suddenly sick.

“Don’t play with something like that, Hoseok.” he furrows his eyebrows together, frowning slightly. “It’s not funny.”

The younger’s smile falters.

“Hyunwoo… I’m not kidding.” he scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I already talked to Hyungwonie about it. And the doctors. They said that if I continue to improve in my healing, in a few more weeks I’ll be able to –”

“Stop.” Hyunwoo  cuts him off. “Stop right there. I don’t want to hear that. I _definitely_ don’t want to hear that.”

Hoseok blinks in surprise, hurt at how harsh the words sound.

“What?” he frowns. “I thought you’d be –”

“Are you _mad?”_ the older interrupts him again. “Hoseok, you’ve barely started walking again! Do you want to kill yourself?!”

Hoseok looks like he’s just been hit. Hyunwoo wants him to _understand._

“Damnit, boy.” he breathes in, trying to calm himself down. “Don’t do that. Don’t do that to yourself, don’t do that to Hyungwon. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Hoseok tries to sit. Ends up hitting his elbow on the side table, curses loudly. Hyunwoo immediately tries to help. The younger shies away from him, slapping his hands to get rid of them. The gesture only causes him more pain, if the look on his face is anything to go by.

“Hoseok, don’t –”

“Why do you need to be so pessimistic?” the boy ignores his worry in favor of scowling at him. “I’m trying to do something good!”

Hyunwoo clenches his teeth.

“I’m being _realistic,_ Hoseok, it’s different.”

Hoseok scoffs at that. Lifts up a hand to make pressure in one of his ribs. Hyunwoo wants to approach and make sure he’s okay, but he can’t do it when the boy’s looking at him like this, like he’s just been betrayed, stabbed in the back by someone he trusted.

“Yeah? And how’s that? Convincing me to give up on trying to save the world?”

“You’re doing no good to the world if you die!” Hyunwoo finally snaps. “Death won’t change anything! You think that Jaeger will make you feel better? It won’t! It’ll kill you and it’ll kill your partner and it won’t do the world any good, and you’re delusional if you think otherwise!”

“You talk like you know how’s that.”

“It’s because I do!”

Silence. Hoseok’s still looking at him like he wants to fight. Hyunwoo tries to swallow down the anger that boils up inside him. Damn. That’s not how he wanted things to go.

“Hoseok.” he sighs, shoulders dropping. “What I’m trying to say –”

“I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.” Hoseok’s features harden. “And just because you’re _afraid_ doesn’t mean that I need to be, too.”

Hyunwoo stares at him with a blank face.

“Being fearless got me nowhere.” he presses his lips into a thin line. “Being fearless got my co-pilot dead.”

“I’m not you.” though his words _are_ anything but that, Hoseok’s tone is soft. “And I’m not your partner either.”

Hyunwoo takes in a sharp breath.

“Don’t die out there, boy. Don’t let your partner die, too. You won’t regret it enough if you do.”

_You’ll wish to be dead with them. You’ll believe you should have died with them._

“I know.” Hoseok breathes out. “I will.”

Hyunwoo leaves after that.

He doesn’t intend to come back this time.

(That night, Hoseok’s screams mix with a melodious high laugh inside Hyunwoo’s head ― he wakes up soaked with sweat, throat hurting, and the dandelions Minhyuk gave him are dead on the night stand.)

 

 

Yoo Kihyun was the name of Hyunwoo’s co-pilot.

Hot-headed, fierce and with a voice that should’ve put him in the music industry instead of fighting monsters from inside a Jaeger, Kihyun was the embodiment of pure energy.

They had nothing in common. _Nothing._ And, still, they got paired up together. They could connect like no one else ― they _did_ connect like no one else, and that’s the reason why they were the first ones of their group to fight a real kaiju and _succeed._

Kihyun was very proud of that. Hyunwoo was, too, but the boy was a different case. Nothing could take the smile off his face for a week straight, and, to everyone that knew him, that was something basically _impossible_ to happen until then. Hyunwoo was happy. _Kihyun_ was happy.

But that doesn’t matter anymore.

Kihyun’s dead, and nothing can change that.

It doesn’t matter how much Hyunwoo regrets it.

Kihyun’s dead.

_Kihyun’s dead._

And he’s not coming back.

(Hyunwoo should’ve died with him.)

 

 

“Hyunwoo hyung?”

“Don’t.” Hyunwoo doesn’t lift his head off the pillow. He knows that tone of voice ― Minhyuk always uses it when he’s trying to ask something about a touchy subject. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The younger stays silent after that, approaching only to nuzzle against his bare shoulder. Hyunwoo turns his head over to look at him, a bit surprised at how easy it was to convince him not to talk about it. Minhyuk has this soft gaze, features relaxed, hair sticking up to all sides, and it’s so _beautiful_ Hyunwoo feels a bit choked.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hyunwoo doesn’t answer, choosing to caress his cheeks instead, wrapping an arm around Minhyuk’s middle and bringing him closer. He presses his mouth against the younger’s forehead on a slow, soft kiss. Minhyuk closes his eyes for a moment, smiling at the care, hugging him back and pressing his head against the crook of Hyunwoo’s neck.

They’re a mess of tangled limbs and bare skins and battered bodies.

Hyunwoo’s surprisingly okay with that.

“You’re beautiful.” he says, fingers gently caressing Minhyuk’s hair, untying the knots on the silverly locks, sighing deeply. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

“You are, too.” Minhyuk says, and his fingers trace the line of a scar on Hyunwoo’s ribs, ever so carefully, ever so delicately, hands warm and cautious and full of care. “You are, too, Hyunwoo.”

The older doesn’t believe him, but he knows better than try and argue with Minhyuk. He leans in, and presses their lips together, and wraps his hands around his hair and around his body and kisses him deeply and touches him faintly. Minhyuk lets him, humming contently at the back of his throat when Hyunwoo runs his fingers through a sensitive spot.

Hyunwoo only smirks.

(His mind’s still a living nightmare, but Minhyuk’s a constant in his life, and he’s not going anywhere.)

 

 

Kihyun wasn’t exactly the ‘best next thing out there’, but even then, as a friend, he was great.

He could light up anyone’s mood if he could. Kihyun was hot-headed, and fierce, and straightforward rude when he wanted, but he _could_ be sweet ― in his own confusing, a bit disturbed, violent way ―, he _was_ a very caring person. Hyunwoo lost count of how many times he was sad, or dismotivated, or only slightly down in general, and Kihyun found a way to make him feel better; through food, through games, through teasing him until Hyunwoo gave up on his bad mood and decided to chase him around.

It was _good._

They were _friends._

“I don’t trust most people, you know.” Kihyun said, once, before drifting. “But you’re someone I really don’t mind to be close to.”

Hyunwoo watched him with curious, fond eyes. It was always the same with Kihyun: they would talk, and the boy would confess something out of the blue, and, sometimes, if he asked, he’d hear the truth behind the younger’s words ― other times, Kihyun would just laugh at his face and change the subject as if nothing happened, pretending he didn’t say something they already shared before, countless times, sharing their minds and thoughts and dreams and fears.

“I know that. I saw it in your head.” _Why are you telling me this?_

“I know.” Kihyun gave him a half-smile, eyes slightly closed, cheekbones high and showing. “I just wanted to tell you.”

Everything in Kihyun’s body, everything in his system gave up his thoughts away before the connection was made; utter _trust,_ utter _love_ pouring down from his body, closeness and happines and _familiarity_ enveloping Hyunwoo like a big, fluffy blanket, making him warm inside, touched by the declaration.

_I trust you._

_I trust you._

_I trust you._

(Hyunwoo wished he didn’t.)

 

 

Minhyuk’s Hyunwoo’s anchor.

Whenever he’s feeling sad, depressed, or just downright _tired_ of everything, he searches for the boy with the childish, toothy smile, he searches for the roundy eyes and the melodious laugh and the confusing games and the softness of his hands and the warmth of his embrace.

Whenever he’s feeling like giving up, he searches for his sweetness and care and the love drowned in despair for the world’s ending, for the life as it was won’t ever come back, for their friends are all hurt or fading or simply giving up and Hyunwoo can’t, he can’t, he _can’t stop._

But love, oh, _love’s for the fool._ Love gives the world the chance to put you down, to tear you up, to fuck you in every way possible ― love’s nothing but an excuse to hurt yourself further and hurt the people around you, because _loving_ means _hoping,_ and hope gets you nowhere.

 _Love’s for the fool,_ love’s for the mad, love’s for the _dead._

“I think I love you.” Hyunwoo confesses, one night, when they’re wrapped up together, warm and sweaty and panting, and Minhyuk’s touching him and Hyunwoo’s kissing him and they’re drowning and they’re living and they’re _dying._ “I think I love you.”

Minhyuk’s answer is to roll his hips and moan against his mouth and scratch his back and smile against his shoulder while biting him, and Hyunwoo doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would, he doesn’t feel so hurt as he thought he would, he doesn’t _feel_ as he thought he would. Minhyuk’s fingers are still warm and his mouth is still soft and his eyes are still full of care and Hyunwoo thinks he can deal with that, he can live with that.

_Love’s for the fool._

(Hyunwoo dreams of the kaiju attack that night.

He dreams of the flames and the acid, and Kihyun’s screams piercing his ears and he’s so afraid and _he’s_ _dying he’s dying he doesn’t want to die_ ― and he doesn’t. He wakes up in his room, _his room,_ because Kihyun’s not there anymore, Kihyun won’t ever be there again, and he shouldn’t but he’s relieved because he’s still breathing and even though it pains him he can feel and he can breath and he’s _alive._

But he regrets it and it hurts him and Hyunwoo can’t breath and he’s burning and he’s screaming and ― Minhyuk’s arms wrap around him, his fingers are warm and his lips are gentle and he rocks him back and forth and keeps whispering, softly, ever so softly, so full of love and care and _life,_ and it’s hard not to break, it’s hard not to give in, not to cry, not to shake in fear and relief and _guilt._

“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you. It’s okay.”

Hyunwoo’s alive and he loves and he _cries.)_

 

 

“His name was Kihyun.” Hyunwoo murmurs, voice quiet, tone even, and Minhyuk looks at him with big, curious eyes. “Yoo Kihyun.”

Something in his eyes must give in how much the subject means. Minhyuk immediately runs a hand through his hair, fingers warm, soft over Hyunwoo’s skin, easing a bit the bad feelings crawling under his skin.

“He was your co-pilot?”

Hyunwoo swallows dry, looking at the ceiling. His chest feels tight. His hands are shaking. His throat feels like closing, and there it is the pain, taking all the way up from his toes to his brain, all over again.

“No.” he says. “He wasn’t my co-pilot.”

Minhyuk tilts his head to the side, and the gesture is so innocent, so confused, Hyunwoo feels like dying again. The words taste bitter inside his mouth, making his tongue heavy, his vision blurry, but he lets them slip out anyway.

“He was my brother.”

Minhyuk doesn’t talk again after that ― and neither does Hyunwoo.

(The silence that follows makes him feel like drowning.)

 

“I’m sorry.”

There’s, indeed, a scar left on Hoseok’s face. It goes all the way from the start of his left cheekbone, down to his chin and only god knows where else ― Hyunwoo can’t see where it ends, and he doesn’t think he wants to. The slightly red line contrasts deeply Hoseok’s skin, making it seem worse than it really is, and it takes the older an awful lot not to keep staring.

He looks at Hoseok’s eyes instead ― chestnut, almost child-like, apologizing.

“For what?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

“I shouldn’t have said all those things to you.” Hoseok scratches the back of his neck, and he’s moving, he’s  _ moving freely, _ almost if the accident didn’t happen at all. Hyunwoo wonders if he’s high on meds or just stupidly  _ strong _ to endure the pain of standing without needing to lean on anything. “I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”

Hyunwoo blinks. Hyungwon’s watching them from afar, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Minhyuk’s probably on the medical bay. Shatterdome’s still the same, and the world’s ending, and nothing changed at all.

“I –”

“It’s okay.” Hyunwoo says, because, at this point, that’s almost  _ true. _ It’s okay ― even though it’s not. He’s okay ― even though he isn’t. “I’m not mad at you.”

Hoseok’s eyes stare at him like he knows ― like he  _ knows. _ Hyunwoo’s feeling a bit numb.

“Before, I – I wasn’t going to say that I  _ could _ drift.” the younger looks away briefly. “I  _ want _ to, but I – I was going to say that I wanted to help you. With – with the newbies, I mean.”

Hyunwoo breathes in. Breathes out. His chest’s  _ heavy. _

“Oh.” he says.

And then Hoseok hugs him.

“I’m sorry.” he says, again.

“It’s okay.” Hyunwoo repeats.

And it is.

For the first time, it is.

(When Hyunwoo smiles, it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.)

 

 

“The world’s a chaos prototype.” Hyunwoo tells Minhyuk, one day, when they’re stargazing, lying side by side on the floor of the East Tower.

Minhyuk turns to look at him with soft, curious eyes.

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that it’s waiting to go down.” Hyunwoo extends his hand out, his fingers gently rubbing the younger’s hair, pushing it out of the way so he can watch him properly. “Everything can go wrong at any moment, at any place. You can lose anything, it doesn’t matter what you do, it doesn’t matter  _ how _ you do it.”

Minhyuk bites his lower lip, giving him a strange look, but there’s no judgement in his eyes ― if he finds the idea odd, he doesn’t tell, and that’s only one of the reasons why Hyunwoo likes him so much.

“Doesn’t that mean that everything can, I don’t know, end…  _ Well?” _ Minhyuk furrows his eyebrows together before turning to look at the sky again. “I mean… It goes the both ways around, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Hyunwoo admits, his voice quiet. “I guess it does.”

Minhyuk doesn’t say anything more after that.

Hyunwoo doesn’t, either.

Again, there’s only silence between then.

(It’s the first time that it doesn’t hurt Hyunwoo as much as it did before.)

 

 

Minhyuk gives Hyunwoo roses one day.

They’re red as blood and bubblegum pink, Kihyun’s favorites.

Hyunwoo breathes in. Holds the air for a while. Looks from the flowers to his lover, and then to the flowers again.

It doesn’t  _ hurt. _

It  _ aches. _

It  _ stings. _

It’s like a bad feeling crawling under his skin, prickling at the corner of his bones and nerves like an insistent bug trying to get inside his heart.

But it doesn’t hurt.

Hyunwoo breathes out and picks the flowers.

_ (They’re in synch. They’re in synch. _ He knows what that means, and it  _ scares _ him.)

 

 

It happens slowly ― so slowly that, when Hyunwoo notices it, it’s already done.

It’s all Minhyuk’s fault, he knows. Minhyuk’s smile and Minhyuk’s lips and Minhyuk’s warmth, and how he holds him and makes him think of the future and the days to come and how things can change if he  _ does something. _ It’s Minhyuk’s fault because Minhyuk makes him  _ want, _ Minhyuk makes him  _ feel better. _

But Hyunwoo doesn’t blame him. He can’t blame him, not now, not ever. How could he? Minhyuk did nothing wrong. Minhyuk made him see what he wasn’t seeing before ― for fear, for guilt, for  _ despair. _ Hyunwoo was cowardly hiding, cowardly running and lying and  _ hurting, _ and he never asked any of that, never  _ deserved _ any of that, but Minhyuk did it anyway, without even asking for something in return, without even  _ knowing. _

_ I trust you, _ Kihyun’s voice rings inside Hyunwoo’s head.  _ I trust you. I trust you. I trust you. _

He’s not about to let that dream down, he’s not about to give up and run and hide and pretend his life’s over ― because  _ it’s not. _

Not anymore.

He didn’t survive until now just so he could regret everything. He didn’t survive to life with fear and despair and hopelessness.

He needs to do  _ something. _

_ He needs to do something now. _

(Hyunwoo’s a pilot.

He’ll always be a pilot.

_ And there’s no changing that.) _

 

 

“I love you.”

There’s no  _ ‘I think’ _ anymore. Hyunwoo’s sure about what he feels ― he’s sure about what he sees and what he believes and what he  _ wants. _ He wants Minhyuk. He wants him like he wants to live, like he wanted to even before knowing, like he loves the sun shining through his window during the morning and the sugary smell of coffee and how soft dandelions feel under his fingers.

He loves him like he loved life before ― he wants to grasp it and  _ hold _ onto it like he did with hope before, like he did with his dreams and his family and his  _ memories. _

Hyunwoo  _ wants to hope. He wants to love. _

If it makes him a fool, well, then so be it.

Minhyuk’s eyes, though, are sad.

“I want to be a pilot.” he says, quietly, so, so quietly, and Hyunwoo’s features soften.

Minhyuk seems confused, until Hyunwoo wraps his arms around the boy’s middle and brings him closer, and breathes against his hair, and kisses his forehead and his cheeks and his lips and smiles against his mouth.

“I know.” he tells. “I know ― and I still love you.”

Minhyuk cries.

(They’re compatible for drift.)

 

 

The next time Hollow Pume fights, they’re not alone anymore.

(If they fall, they’ll fall together.  _ No one gets left behind. _

Hyunwoo’s not giving up.

Not again. Not ever.)

 

 

The world might end today.

Or tomorrow.

Or the day after that.

Somehow, Hyunwoo finds in himself that he doesn't care that much ― as long as he's with Minhyuk, as long as he can keep him safe and fight for him and fight with him, he can live with that. Hyunwoo can fight if it means he'll have more time with the man he loves (and the friends ― and  _ family _ ― he made along the way).

_ He will fight. _

And he won't stop.

He can't stop.

He doesn't want to stop.

 

 

"I love you too." Minhyuk tells him, later, and the only witness to his words are the stars above them.

The world's still ending. There's still a piece inside Hyunwoo that won't ever come back, that won't ever be replaced.

The sky's still blue. The silence's still there.

_ I love you. I love you. I love you. _

Hyunwoo smiles.  


(Dandelions turn out to be his favorite type of flower.)

 

 

The world's still a chaos prototype, it's been even before Kihyun's death.

And Hyunwoo can live with that. _ They  _ can live with that.

They  _ will _ live with that.

_ Together. _

 


End file.
